27 November 2011

of hundreds of birds in trees just outside the hospital entrance. hundreds. and the pop and flutter of wings, staccato-like songs bouncing off evergreen branches onto concrete walls. for a second, there was nothing else. nothing but that swarm of birds and the sound of hospital doors opening and closing. for a second, everything else fell away.

all I really want to do is post pretty pictures of pretty things. I don't want to talk about the real reason I flew home or how hard the last couple of days have been. I don't want to talk about how this will be the first thanksgiving I've ever spent away from the kids, how I'll miss ward's birthday tomorrow, how sad and strange that all feels.

but I really am exactly where I need to be. and for this, I am thankful.

19 November 2011

and I could use a little color. I could use a little of the happy stuff. I don't know, maybe someone else could too. there's a dark place and it involves difficult phone conversations and difficult decisions and the realization that the week ahead has suddenly changed into something else all together. dear life, I get it. you're mercurial.

16 November 2011

today: originals and outtakes from the impossible project show outside the lines, which opened in new york on september 29th. the top one of ezra hangs giant-sized in the soho space and originals of the third and fifth also found a place in the show. I'm partial to the second one, even though it didn't make the cut. something about the super soft focus, something about the movement and the color. feels like a painting.

the truth is that I had a hard time shooting for this show. I was so completely honored to have been asked to participate that the weight of the whole thing almost pulled me under. and then, somewhere near the middle, my camera lost it-- spit out frame after frame after frame in rapid succession before it sputtered and died. well, and then it came back to life again. long story. I'll tell you, the whole process was an exercise in perseverance, an exercise in not shutting down. because that's what I do sometimes when things go awry. I shut down. and I probably did shut down, just for a minute or two (okay maybe for longer than that) but I did not hurl my camera across the room (so glad I didn't) and I kept shooting (so glad I did). because sometimes you just have to keep shooting. and resist the urge to hurl things.

many thanks to all the folks who've been to the show and reported back (I am living vicariously, you know)-- most especially to my brother von and my good friend jen (who both represented on opening night, huzzah) and to lovely secia, who wrote about her visit to the show here. checkit, the official impossible project opening night recap is here. also, many many many thanks to the impossible project folks for inviting me to participate in the show in the first place and perhaps most importantly, for making crazy ridiculous beautiful instant film.

still sort of holding out hope that I'll make it to new york to see the show before it ends on january 31st. it's a total long shot but you know, a girl can dream.

12 November 2011

and my feet are cold. but there's a fire burning in the fireplace, first one of the season. I don't know when it happened but the record player blew a speaker. stevie wonder now sings at me through a tiny fuzzy megaphone but I listen anyway. I turn the record over and lower the needle, adjust the volume. the house smells like wood and smoke and it is maybe the best smell in the world. which is when my mind turns to list making. list number thirty-eight: best smells in the world. but before my mind can settle, it spins off in another direction. and another and another and another. I am full of ideas tonight. but I am also full of pessimism. the kind that sits in a stiff, sour place and will not budge.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night. we'd fallen asleep on the big green couch. again. with all the lights on, television on, legs uncomfortably intertwined. what I am going to tell you now is that the television was turned to PBS. and I am all for PBS, I love PBS but I can't imagine what we could have possibly been watching on public television on a friday night before we drifted off. we are almost always watching reruns of seinfeld. anyway. american masters with bill t. jones was on and I forced my sleepy eyes open because this what I would call luck. I am a big fan of mr. jones. I was pretty out of it but at three in the morning, I listened to him talk about abraham lincoln, watched him yell at dancers, then at musicians, watched him push and pull new work into place. and I wanted to cry because this is a world that I miss. I miss dance, I miss that sweaty, messy place. I miss class, I miss rehearsals, I miss choreographers. I miss my old body. I miss my old body so much. the credits rolled just then and I turned the channel. and then I fixed myself a bowl of cereal because I didn't want to think about it anymore.

we will probably fall asleep on the big green couch again tonight. to the sounds of the television, the dying of the first fire.

09 November 2011

(I don't know how how the light around her head happened but I sure do love it)

(awesome albanian teenagers)

(inside the studio of the fantastic albanian painter artan hajrullahu, whose work I fell head over heels in love with)

(and while we were visiting with artan in his studio, his mother brought us hot mint tea and apples she'd hand-picked from a tree in their backyard)

(while visiting albanian artist filloreta maliqi, she introduced us to her grandfather, a fine photographer and the first in his village to own a polaroid sx-70 back in the day)

(plastic colored clothespins, oh plastic colored clothespins)

sometimes I like to pair words and descriptions with my polaroids, sometimes I don't. scratch that, I don't. but something about the kosovo polaroids seems to call for it. more words added to part one and: parts three and four on deck.

for the record, it brings me great joy to share these polaroids from gjilan. it means the world that you even look. thank you.

07 November 2011

06 November 2011

no film in the canon, not even close to finishing that one thing, socks sad and matching, crochet needles still cold, bike still motionless.

but-- the halloween candy is dead to me and I am practically BFFs with the rain. more importantly, a last minute trip to astoria put a little color in my cheeks and this magic little polaroid in my hands. take that, wanton slacker self.

04 November 2011

this weekend, I'll load up the canon FTb. I'll finish that thing I need to finish. I'll intentionally mismatch my socks. I'll ask my mother-in-law to teach me how to crochet. I'll get on my bike and I'll ride. I'll not steal halloween candy from you know who. I'll not complain about the rain.

she was all set to go as nancy drew and then she saw that pink wig at target. I've always wanted to wear a pink wig, she said. well okay then, you should wear one, I said. because surely halloween was invented for this very reason. for that somebody somewhere who just wanted an excuse to wear a pink wig. I would know nothing about this, of course. nothing at all.

and then there was all the tusken raider business, which I really wish I could take credit for, but I can't. the tusken raider business is totally the husband's doing. whom, I believe, was really making the costume for his inner nine year-old self. meanwhile, ezra fell so deeply in love with it that he vowed to wear it every single halloween until he is old. old like a teenager, he said.

yep, halloween 2011. year of lady bonbon, year of the tusken raider. and one for the books, that's for sure.